


On Her Knees (where she wants to be)

by Tangledinprose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clarke is a stud, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fluff, Lexa is a cutie, Orgasms are great, Porn with Feelings, Smut, first time oral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6699364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangledinprose/pseuds/Tangledinprose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa has never had a mouth on her before.</p><p>Clarke happily volunteers.</p><p>Or</p><p>Theres always a first time for oral sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Her Knees (where she wants to be)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ishipbadasschicks (Awal)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awal/gifts).



She catches her breath, feels the skin of her inner thighs tingle and suddenly loses all control of her jaw. The anticipation digs into her abdomen and the body skating across her, moves slow and methodic as though her actual _soul_ is not trembling with need. 

“Klark”, she groans, frustration and awe and wonder wrapped around her tongue and escaping in a hiss that she barely recognises as her own voice. The woman on top of her pauses, smirk placed against her hipbone and she wants to roll her eyes at the instinct to lift her lower half.

Soft blonde curls tickle at her sides, and she is almost grateful that she cannot see those aqua eyes; filled with so much knowledge and lust and _plans_ that makes her want to groan out loud again. She instead lifts her fingers, traces gleaming shoulders and prominent shoulder blades and gets a bite in return. A sinking of teeth below her belly button, chased with the scrape of her tongue. Her thighs clenched, heat dripping and lips parted; heart racing inside the cavity of her chest. 

There is a pause. Fingers framing her hips, her own legs splayed to create space for the goddess of creamy skin and pouted lips to lay. She looks down and see’s her watching, chin propped gently on her pubic bone and softness in her eyes that leaves her a little breathless. Klark is ruthless, strong; ferocious and impulsive. But her cheeks beg to be cradled, jaw to be cupped and neck, skin, _body_ singing for worship. She wishes to do just that but the blonde parts her lips, a gust of air  in turn, caresses her skin and goosebumps erupt in its wake. 

“You ready?”, it’s said softly and she sucks in a breath, tongue heavy and throat tight. She doesn’t ever think she will be ready. Not for this. Not for the way the other girls lips part, the way her eyes threaten to possess her. The way the curve of her fingers fit perfectly in the spaces of her ribs. She hums in answer, a barely sounded affirmation thats quiet in nervous but heavy with want. Klark’s cheeks lift, her eyes shimmer and she feels herself melt unsteadily into the soft caress of her furs. 

She kisses her way down, tracing toward the forbidden part of her that no one has yet to taste, feels nervousness tickle its way to her cheeks and makes her suck at her lips. She wants to close her eyes, but Klark keeps her grounded with her hands fitted to the sharp juts of her hipbones, fingers splayed possessively. This dance, this want; so new and startling that she becomes restless under the other girls palms. 

Her head is dipped down, blonde curls disarray and pouted lips suckling on skin she didn’t even _know_ had sensation. The joint between her outer lips and her thigh is nibbled; so close. So close where she needs her most that she groans and covers her eyes with her forearms, waiting. Ready. 

There is a tap on her thigh, a call for attention; a demand to be watched. So she does; lifts her arms off her face and catches deep blue eyes, darkened with arousal and piercing with want as she lowers that perfect mouth; savours her first taste. 

The caress is light, but still her hips jolt; shock and pleasure caught in her throat as her body keens for more. More more more of Klark and her tongue and her mouth and her _teeth._ It feels familiar. Yet nothing like she knows, so startling in its pleasure that she is unsure how to respond.  

There is a groan from the other girl as her lips attach to her mound, blue eyes closed and eyebrows raised as though she is feasting on the most exquisite of delicacies. She feels herself flood at the sight, her stomach quivers as Klark forgoes all pretence of tease and delves her tongue further, seeking seeking seeking. 

She swipes, once. Twice. On the third a gasp escapes her very own lips and the angle against her clit has her thighs quivering. Her lover focuses on this, swirling and suckling and enveloping her mouth across that bundle of nerves. Its almost too much to handle and yet not enough. She lets out a cry, unabashed in its release and she feels a responding sentiment in the fingers that squeeze her hips. 

Klarks mouth may be her new favourite thing. She has never imagined….could never have dreamed that this type of pleasure could exist. That her scar kissed body, her tense muscles and war painted skin could feel such softness; could touch such heights. Its overwhelming in its climb and she’s not sure she is ready for her climax, if the journey itself leaves her writhing and speechless.

The blondes mouth has been the first to descend on her, was turned opened in surprise when she herself had divulged her lack of….’experience’ in this area of love making. Roaming fingers she knew, nibbling teeth and colliding skin. But the swirl of a tongue? The persistent suckle of her mouth. Those visions that only existed in her fantasies. 

And so Klark had whispered against the shell of her ear, pushing her until her tattooed skin was across furs and she was between open thighs. 

‘I’ll make you feel so good Lexa. Please babe.’ Begging. Nibbling. _Grinding_ against her body until she was gasping out a yes and her path began. She can never resist Klark when she openly states a claim on her. When she lets her eyes rove down her naked skin, or calls her names that Skai people reserve for their mates. Lovers. Affectionate and knowing. 

She feels fingers trailing down her hips, caressing the plane of her thighs as her mouth softens, creating a suction, just touching on gentle that she feels her back arch. Feels her body try to chase those wonderful lips. She feels Klark gasp against her; opens her mouth wider and suckles as the underside of her tongue moves gently against her clit. 

Her breath catches in her throat, hips lifting and she keens, sound reverberating. “Jok niron”, the words are gravel, gasped more than formed and Klark lets up, detaches her lips and chases her scent down to the core of her, Her hips stutter as the other girl works about gathering her arousal, spreading, caressing, _memorising_ with her tongue. 

She lifts her mouth, pink and shiny as she sucks in breath after breath. Her eyes are half lidded, cheeks flushed and fingers scratching their way down her bottom until she is lifting her hips up. She stares back, feels heat and molten want cascade through her limbs at the drunk look on Klarks face. The other girl turns her neck, sinks her teeth into flesh of her thigh previously grazing at her cheeks and she hisses. Feral. 

She delves back in, without warning or pause and her hips fly up again, curses and strangled words forming against her mouth. Her lips are spread gently, thumbs hooking on either side, pink flesh exposed until her bundle of nerves is protruding; brave against the softness. She would feel shame, if it wasn’t for the growl leaving her lovers lips and that tongue. 

That talented, worthy of worship, entirely too flexible tongue, that circles and circles and _circles._ She feels like she is drowning, feels useless and stuttering as her hips clench with every caress. She begs at her; to stop or to continue. But Klark doesn’t let up, grazing her teeth, forming her lips, massaging and suckling once every so path that she doesn’t have a moment to get used to the feeling. 

Its all so new. Overwhelming and consuming, that she feels herself spiralling out of control. She arches her neck, digs her hands into the furs above her head and rocks her hips into her lovers mouth, pushing and pushing her toward that proverbial drop so steep, it scares her in its intensity. 

“Beja Klark”, she says,lips dry, eyes moist and Klark responds, moving her hands from where they were holding her open. Her right slides up, tracing the skin above her pubic region before pushing down  gently but firmly. Her body follows the direction without thought, lower back sinking back onto the bed and Klark lets up with her mouth, eyes open as she stares at her greedily. She doesn’t speak a word, shiny lips and flushed cheeks doing all the talking. 

But she is towering over her in all her naked glory, soft breasts on display, nipples stiff from attention. Creamy skin curved through valleys and slopes. Indented belly button and clenching stomach. Klark moves herself toward the edge of the bed, holding hips as an anchor and swivelling her body in one swift motion. A determined jerk that leaves all the air rushing past her lips and her her mouth open in a gasp. 

The blonde drops to her knees onto the floor, piling furs to cushion her as she latches on to her mound again without so much as wait. 

She gasps, new angle catching her off guard. She feels steady hands run up her calves, massage her aching muscles and she is pulled into directions that she has never experienced before. 

Her legs are lifted, one after the other until she is open for view; body, heart and soul melting against the feel of Klark against her. She brings her fingers up, runs one at the entrance of her opening and then there is a pause. A wait. An ask. A confirmation. 

She answers with the squeeze of her thighs and the buck of her hips and Klark slips one in, quickly followed by another until the stretch feels _good._ She groans out loud, head thrown back and waits for the shift. For the in and out push and pull that she is so used to. 

Instead the other girls mouth is lifted, a crease barely furrowing her brow as she massages her fingers slowly; searching searching searching. Until-

“There.”

She says it possessively, a statement with no real answer and she knows how Klark knows. How could she not when it seems she now has no control over her limbs, when her core is _dripping_ against the other girls fingers and for the cry out to the sky that she had released from her lips the moment those beautiful fingers grazed at her spot. 

Klark kisses her way back down, from thigh to outer lips; until she can feel her smile against her sensitive skin and she explores those untouched places. The swell of her outer lips, the pink flesh past that. Nothing has been left unclaimed. 

No one could ever have her the way this beautiful blonde does. No one can know her skin, know her secret places; know her _soul_ as Klark seems too. She feels tears build at the corner of her eyes, sucks in a breath as the intimacy of this act crashes down on her chest. 

Her lover is on her _knees_ for her. Committing her to memory, worshipping her  the way she has never been before. There is so much beauty; so much love she cannot seem to contain, that she lifts her hands, fingers sinking into blonde curls to pull her closer. 

The other girl groans against wet flesh, heads back toward that pulsating bundle of nerves and suckles around it, swirling closer and closer until the friction causes her to cry out with every swipe of her tongue. Her fingers remain, pressing delicately along her sensitive spot and rubbing back and forth in practiced motions. 

She feels her climax so close, her mouth salivating in anticipation, her core burning with stimulation. Every inch of her skin in alight with want and heightened arousal. She feels it rush toward her fingertips, feels it in the clench of her teeth; the tingle in her abdomen. She grinds herself against that mouth, all sense of nerves or insecurity lost to the skilled flick of that tongue. She has never felt so wanting. She has never felt so _wanted_. 

“Mor.” She grunts it, gasp followed as Klark hums against her folds in response and increases the paces of those fingers. Just _pressing_ against that hidden place that makes her legs weak. She spills out words and praises and sounds that she has never imagined would leave her lips, accent thick as she clenches her teeth down on it. She moves to cover her mouth, press her palm against her open lips in attempts to muffle the sound of her pleasure. But Klark halts her fingers just as they lay placement on her own cheek, mouth still buried, tongue still tasting as she stares at her. 

The fingers of her left hand are still pressing firmly at her insides, and she feels her eyes roll at the sensation. Every caress of that tongue; slight deviation of that hand has her clenching down and she can feel Klark groan in response against her. The other girl pulls her mouth away; lips, cheeks, _chin_ soaked with her essence and eyes so dark it leaves both of them panting. 

“Don’t you dare. I want to hear. I want to hear this part”. The words are spoken as she suckles into the flesh of her thigh once more, darkening the sensitive skin until she is thrashing and begging. But the blonde doesn’t let up; skin bruised until she is sure that she will be marked for days. Will feel the ache and think about her mouth on her for _days._

She closes her eyes as Klark returns back to where she needs her most, tongue wrapped around those nerves and lips pouted as she sucks; savouring as though she cannot get enough. Her back is arched, neck strained as she is held hostage against that perfect mouth. 

She feels her climax certain now, digs her nails into her furs and flicks her hips in time with Klark’s tongue. She feels those fingers speed up in their dance, tiny circles concentrated at the source of her pleasure and suddenly she cannot take it anymore. She is at the brink of a fall. At the height of a crescendo. At the top of a climb so steep that her lungs cannot seem to gather enough oxygen, her skin is aching with _need._

And she needs. She needs to be pushed. Needs to feel the ending of the piece that her perfect lover has been playing and using her body as the instrument. 

And then she is. Pushed. Thrown with an intensity that even outmatches the climb. Klark plays at her clit, pulling at it with a  long suckle from her mouth, tongue pulsing up and down and fingers placed just _right._ And she is gone. Lost into the abyss of pleasure so consuming that she see’s white at the corner of her vision. 

She scrambles for purchase, hips shaking as she falls and falls and _falls_ that she sinks her fingers back into blonde curls and trusts her to catch her safely. Her mouth is open and free groans and harsh gasps escape as her body jerks against Klarks tongue, no filter against the pleasure she feels. The pleasure this beautiful girl has given her. 

Klark keeps her falling, mouth pulling and pulling until she knows that she cannot take any more. Until she knows that the pressure is too much. And so she gentles, fingers slow and mouth curved so the pleasure remains, so she is still shaking, her neck arched. 

She crumbles slowly, languid satiation seeping into her body as the climax slowly leaves her bones. Its kept her close, her heart still racing, her insides still clenching as Klark kisses her sensitive skin over and over. She groans, back slowly lowering back into the bed as she feels her body melt. 

She feels weak, pleasure and love skating at her ribs and she tries to catch her breath. Klark pulls out her fingers slowly and she feels herself jerk in response, resounding spike of her climax catching at her unawares. She is shivering against that mouth, stomach muscles tensing again and again as the rippling of her insides slow. 

She lets out a sigh, sweat drying off her skin as Klark lets go with a final curve of her tongue. She kisses her way down her thighs, letting her legs relax until the are dangling of the bed, muscles complete useless and jittery. 

She finally opens her eyes, heavy warmth at the base of her stomach as she looks down at the girl still kissing at her hipbone. 

She tightens her legs as much as she can manage, squeezing her knees against the other girls ribs to get her attention. “Klark.” 

“Hmm,” she answers, looking up and licking at her lips, wetness still coating at them and she feels herself shiver at the sight. 

“Come here Niron”, she lifts her arms in a beckon and watches as Klark crawls up her body, all flushed naked skin and parted thighs. She settles herself on her hips, essentially straddling her as her hair falls in cascades over her one shoulder. She is a mesmerising sight. All mischief and affection rimmed at her eyes and she feels awed by the mere existence of her settling comfortably in her lap. 

She see’s wetness on the girls chin, flushes at the evidence of her climax on her skin and reaches out her hands to capture it. Klark lets her, smiles as her fingers trace her skin and then catches her hands, bringing her wetness to her lips and letting her tongue curl around her finger before pulling it into her mouth. 

She hisses at the sight, at the warmth encasing her skin and jolts her hips as she other girl moves, grinding slowly against her tense abdomen. 

Everything about this woman drives her insane. The way she can effortlessly undo her with just a glance, the way she falls more and more in love with every new piece she discovers. 

Klark lets go of her fingers with a pop and grins before kissing her way down her wrist. “Good?” 

The question is asked innocently, but she feels warmth erupt at her chance. Because she is good. She is good with the way Klark makes her feel. Good with the consuming amount of love she feels whenever she so much as looks her way. Good with the knowledge that Klark is hers, that love that feels this infinite cannot be a weakness. The her people cannot convince her otherwise. 

So she smiles, traces her hand down her lovers sternum and moves until she feels her heart beat steady against the softness of her breast. “Ai hod yu in”. 

Klark’s eyes soften, her cheeks warm and she stills for a moment, lips pressed to her wrist as she breathes her in. Sky blue eyes never leave hers as the blonde dips forward, palms on either side of her face as lips capture her own, noses grazing each other in a soft caress and longing attached to their smiles. She tastes the sweet tang of herself on that mouth and openly groans, sparks of arousal seeping into her veins. 

She runs her hands up Klarks sides, stopping just below her breasts before travelling back down to her hips. Feels wetness against her skin, proof of the climax that Klark has yet to receive. She imagines the blonde on her back, thighs spread for her and she salivates with the implication. 

Pulling forward, she tightens her grip, rocking back up into the movement until the blonde is gasping and grinding down, circular motions of her hips creating friction against any exposed skin. She tilts that chin up, catches her bottom lip with her teeth before speaking. 

“Can I put my mouth on you Klark?” 

She feels the rhythm of her hips stutter as her eyes darken once more. “Fuck Lexa. You can’t—“ she stops mid sentence, gasp in its wake as she hooks a leg around her hip and effectively flips them over. Klark on her back, breasts on display, blonde hair in disarray and hands above her head. 

She is more beautiful than any painting, any song; any carefully crafted battle cry. Like this; soft, open. Wanting. 

“What can’t I do hodness?” It’s spoken into the creamy flesh of her thigh, mind clouding as she slowly becomes intoxicated by the scent of her arousal. 

She sinks to her knees. The second, and certainly not the last time she will kneel for this woman.

Outside of these doors she is Heda. Commander. 

Killer. Leader of her people. 

In this room she is on her knees, face buried between white thighs, becoming fluent in curse words that she will never use. 

She kisses her way toward dripping flesh, smirk graced on her lips at the gasp that echoes in response. She looks up, catches cerulean eyes on her as she asks; voice gravel, lips licked. 

“You ready?”. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos me bitch. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Also come find me at tangledin-prose on tumblr.


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